Harry Potter and the Scroll of the Ages

Over the course of the next few days, Harry watched both Dudley and his parents very carefully. He just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye. However, nothing whatsoever seemed to suggest that Dudley had not meant his little speech to Harry on his birthday, and he continued to treat Harry as an actual person, instead of something that had crawled out from under a rock. However, the more Harry watched, the more tension he noticed between his aunt and uncle, and his cousin. It was truly strange; it was as if Dudley was a guest that had long since worn out his welcome. They were alienating him almost as much as they had Harry.

One morning, Harry came down to breakfast and sat down at the table. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia ignored him as usual. After a few minutes, he heard the mail slot click.

"Go get the mail, Dudley," barked Uncle Vernon, from behind his newspaper.

"Harry, will you go get the mail?" Dudley said, which was a more polite way of saying, 'I don't feel like getting up.'

"Sure --"

"I told you to get it, Dudley," Uncle Vernon growled, interrupting him.

"It's okay, I can get it. It's not a big deal," Harry tried.

"Hold your tongue boy," Vernon growled at him, and then turned back to his son. "I told you to get it. Now go."

Dudley eventually got up, but only after an intense staring contest with his father. He finished his peach and left. It was extremely odd, and as Harry reflected on it later, incredibly extraordinary. Or at least it would have been only a couple weeks earlier. Soon, Harry felt he couldn't take the awkward silence (Dudley hadn't returned after getting the mail) anymore so he left and went to his room. There, he found Dudley sitting on his bed.

"What're you doing in here?" Harry asked.
"Waiting for you. I was --" he was interrupted by the arrival of an owl through the window. "Yikes! What the hell is that thing?" Dudley yelped as the small ball of fluff rocketed around the room. Harry sighed. Pig always seemed to get a little over enthusiastic whenever Harry was around.

"Relax Dudley, it's just an owl."

"That thing is an owl?" he asked incredulously, turning red.

"Yup. That's Pig."

"Pig?" Dudley snickered. "Did they name it for the irony, or am I missing something?"

"It's short for Pigwidgeon. Don't ask," he responded, seeing the look on his cousin's face.

"Okay, fine. What's it got?"

"Gee, I wonder. Could it possibly be a letter? Because usually they carry pineapples," he responded sarcastically.

"Shut up."

"Well, that's what you get for asking stupid questions."

"Shut up," he said again, untying the note attached to the tiny owl's leg.

"Thanks for the assistance," Harry muttered dryly. The letter looked insignificant, but something else was in the envelope with it. Harry pulled it out and saw that the 'something' was a few pictures. Harry read the letter. "Well apparently, Ginny was worried about me, so she told Ron to send some pictures since there was no other way of me seeing them," he explained, partly to himself.

"Who's Ginny?" Dudley asked slyly.

"No one. Don't go there," His cousin looked as if he was about to say something, then stopped. Harry looked at the pictures. There was one of Ron at the breakfast table, with his head down and snoring. Fred was attaching something to his back, trying not to wake him up. Harry decided he really didn't want to know what the 'something' was. The next was of the twins and Percy. His hair was glittering in a rainbow of sparkles, and his face looked like a thundercloud. Fred and George looked like they were trying very hard not to laugh as Percy scolded them. The last was of the family at a beach. Ginny was in the center, with Ron fighting with the twins in the background. Mrs. Weasley was also there, setting out food and Percy was reading a book on a beach towel. Harry thought he could see Mr. Weasley farther down the beach looking at something in the sand. While Harry was looking at the people in the background, Dudley was obviously not.

"Who's that?" he gulped, staring at the Ginny in the picture who was giggling and waving at them.

"Who? Her? That's Ginny. Ron's little sister.... Why?" he asked, finally catching on.

"Well, just look at her. She's beautiful."

Harry looked. He was surprised to see that the girl laughing in the picture wasn't the shy awe-struck small child she had been when he had first met her. She had changed and matured so much, he was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. Her face had lengthened out and she didn't have nearly as many freckles. Her hair was long and wavy, and sparkled in the sunlight. She was wearing a purple bathing suit that looked as if it hadn't fit her the way it was intended to in a long time, making it very form fitting. It was a nice figure... It showed off her long thin legs as well as her-- he stopped that train of thought as soon as it went onto that track. He wasn't interested in Ginny Weasley like that. No, she was more like a sister to him. Besides, if even one of her brothers had known where that thought had gone, he had a feeling he wouldn't like what would happen to him. He still thought of her as the little girl that he'd saved in the Chamber of Secrets, but it was clear that wasn't who she was anymore.

"Don't look at her like that!" Harry snapped at his cousin, who'd had a glazed expression on his face.

"Why? Is she your girlfriend? Is there something you'd like to tell me?" Dudley asked in a very disappointed tone.

"Oh, yes Dudley. She's my best friend's little sister and I knocked her up. We're getting married in August and we're madly in love. Have been ever since I saved her from the dragon and her prison in the ivory tower," he replied sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

"No, of course not! But you had better keep you're eyes in their sockets. She's only 14 and has six older brothers, all of whom haven't heard the best of stories about you."

"Six older brothers?" he squeaked.

"Yes, six. Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron. Oh, and I might add that they're all wizards and three of them can legally do magic outside of school. Not that seems to bother Fred and George much," he added mildly. "Bill works with goblins, Charlie works with dragons, Percy works for the Ministry, and you don't want to mess with Fred and George. Remember the toffee last summer?" Dudley made a squeaky noise. "But in all, I think Ron's the most dangerous. He's the closest to Ginny and has the worst temper of all of them."

"Well thanks for her family history," he said, trying to sound snide and failing miserably. "So there's no way?" he asked pleadingly.

"Nope. Sorry."

"Absolutely none? Is there any way you could just introduce us? Just look at her...her hair...her warm brown eyes.... her legs...her--"

"Down boy," Harry interrupted before he could get to something he might regret saying. "Wasn't there something you were wondering?" he asked before Dudley could get in another whiny comment.

Dudley glowered at him. "Yeah, I was wondering if you would like to get out of the house for the afternoon. Get away from my parents."

"Sounds great. What's going on with you guys anyway?"

"Nothing," he said shortly. "I was wondering if you might let me possibly keep the picture anyway?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not? It's not like I can do anything with it, I just want to keep a picture of her," he wheedled.

"No," Harry said again.

"Please..."

"No."

-----*-----

Harry sighed and sat down on his bed. He and Dudley had just gotten home from the afternoon's excursions. He was sunburned and his feet hurt, not to mention the headache he had from listening to Dudley talk about Ginny all day.

It was then that Harry noticed the letter on his desk. He picked it up and opened it. It was from Hermione.

Harry laughed and set the letter down on his desk. Last year he had indeed gotten her gloves, because it was the only thing he had found. He hated shopping for girls. He made a mental note to buy something nice for her on Wednesday. However, he did not open his letter. He didn't even make a mental note to.

-----*-----

Harry woke up refreshed. "No nightmares? Yes!" he cried. The clock read 9:34 am, and Harry didn't think he'd ever seen a more beautiful sight than those neon numbers. Harry got up and walked to his window, which was closed. "That's odd. I left the window open last night." He thought about it for a few seconds, but dismissed it, thinking Aunt Petunia had been cold and closed it.

Harry threw on some old jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs. Aunt Petunia was cleaning the kitchen. He headed towards to refrigerator and got out the orange juice.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Aunt Petunia asked shrilly. "If you're not up in time for breakfast with everyone else, you don't eat it at all! You know that! Get out of there!"

"Oh, bugger off already," Harry muttered, ignoring her and pouring himself a glass. "It's only orange juice." Harry walked out of the kitchen into the parlor, leaving an indignant Petunia behind. Dudley was there, watching what looked like a cooking show.

"What's eating your mum? Practically bit my head off for getting something to drink."

"Hmm?" Dudley responded, obviously not paying attention.

"I said you had better not go up to your room anytime soon. We've gone back in time to World War II and the Germans have bombed the house. Your room is in ruins. Oh, and that couch you're sitting on is covered with man-eating cockroaches. Your mum just called the exterminator," Harry snickered, getting carried away.

"Oh, okay. Don't mess up my game though," Dudley said absently.

"Dudley!" Harry said loudly.

"Huh? What?"

"What is it you're watching that could keep you so entranced? I just told you the house was bombed by the Nazis and you just said not to mess up your game," Harry replied, exasperated.

"Very funny. I'm sorry, but they're showing us how to make German chocolate cake with hot fudge and almonds. Oh, I wish I had some! I'm tired of celery," he grumbled.

"Why don't we turn this off," Harry suggested.

"Probably a good idea," Dudley conceded, turning it off. "You look better."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you've been looking really sick lately. Pale and thin, with bags under your eyes. Today the bags aren't as prominent," he said, matter-of-factly.

"Umm.... thanks? I actually slept last night, so that's probably it. Anyway, I was wondering....hey, what do we have here? Dudley! I said no!" Harry grabbed the picture laying on the coffee table.

"Hey! That's mine!"

"No, it's not. I told you no!" Harry responded hotly. He had found he didn't like other guys ogling Ginny in a bathing suit.

"I found it," Dudley whined.

"Yeah, on my desk! Dudley, you have no chance with this girl. Let it go."

"But I don't want to. I like her."

"Can't you like someone else? Please? This is Ginny."

"What're you her brother? I was under the impression she only had six others."

"Dudley, no. Find yourself another potential victim. Please. For your physical health if nothing else," he said pointedly.

"Fine. I will. Keep your ruddy picture. I don't care," Dudley huffed, giving Harry a glimpse of the old Dudley he had always known. He got up and went to his room, leaving a very agitated Harry behind.

-----*-----

Sunday and Monday were spent finishing whatever homework he had. Dudley came in once or twice, but hadn't stayed very long; Harry wasn't very good company when he wasn't paying attention.

"I hate this! Bloody hell, what is with Binns and goblin rebellions?" Harry muttered angrily to himself.

"Who's Binns?" came a voice from behind Harry, making him jump and poke his tongue with the quill he had been chewing on.

"Damnit Dudley, why do you always sneak up on me?"

"Why are you so jumpy?" Dudley smirked. "It's funny seeing you leap into the air."

Yeah, well you wouldn't think it funny if you had seen half the things I did last year," Harry groused.

"Really? What'd you see?" Dudley sounded excited.

"Nothing," Harry said, rather tersely.

"Alright, alright, no need to get your knickers in a twist," Dudley laughed. "I came up to tell you I'll be gone a few hours."

"Oh really? Where?" Harry asked, suspiciously.

"Erm...a date, if you must know," he said, blushing.

"Isn't that cute!" Harry put on a high voice, imitating Aunt Petunia. Then he grew serious. "Who is it?"

"A girl a couple blocks away. I've liked her for a while, but I only now got the nerve up to ask her," he blushed deeper.

"That's good, Dudley. Glad to know you're not dwelling on Ginny, considering it's a hopeless cause. Hope you have a good time," Harry said, turning back to his homework.

-----*-----

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. He sat at his desk and in front of him lay his Hogwarts letter. Dudley had left a few hours earlier.

"To open it, or not to open it," he muttered to himself; he'd been 'watching' Hamlet earlier. The letter was thicker this year, and he wanted to know why, but opening it would be the first step in re-entering the wizarding world, and thereby confronting some of his worst memories. Memories that would haunt him wherever he went. He sighed again. "Oh bloody hell! Screw it!" he swore softly, making up his mind. Slowly, he reached for the letter, slit the wax seal, and opened it.

Besides that, there was the supplies list, as promised, and surprisingly, a letter from Dumbledore. Curious, he started to read:

"I'm a prefect?" asked Harry in disbelief, completely ignoring the part about the 'Watcher'. "But I've broken so many rules! Are they mad?"

Eagerly, he pressed his palm into the circle. Sure enough, out popped a shiny silver badge with the letter 'P' on it. "Hey, who else got one?" he asked himself, looking for the list. He found it and let out a yell. "All three of us! Brilliant!" he said, grinning.

He ran out of his room, letter in hand, looking for Dudley. "Oi, Dudley!" He bellowed. He wasn't in his room, so Harry headed down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He wasn't in the kitchen, or the parlor so Harry headed towards the sitting room, not slowing his pace in the least.

"Dudley, you'll never..." he trailed off, hardly believing the scene that met his eyes. Dudley was laying one the couch, in a very incriminating position, with what Harry assumed was his date. Harry stared at the blonde. "Lavender?!"